


Price of Power

by Ton (tonkatsupls)



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Choking, Complete, Light Sadism, M/M, Mild Gore, Wing Cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22385959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonkatsupls/pseuds/Ton
Summary: Gran searches for power, and finds it in an unlikely place.
Relationships: Belial/Gran (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Price of Power

**Author's Note:**

> Just idle thinking of the logistics of being able to summon Belial, just kinda became this.

It is no secret that Gran dreams often.

Though he had no trouble getting enough sleep, there were many times in which Gran’s night was disturbed by some otherworldly force. Usually they were accompanied by a white backdrop with a lone figure standing in the abyss, most likely looking to test the power that a “Singularity” like him carries. Just another night for the captain of the Grandcypher really.

Which is precisely why this night threw him off guard.

Gran scans the area around him apprehensively, his gaze landing on the arched windows that surrounds him. From where the dark clouds stood against the evening sky, he could tell that he is currently at a rather tall tower. Though it is clearly evening, the inside of the tower feels like night with how the metallic bars cast shadows around him. 

He takes a step forward, a grimace forming on his face as he wobbles slightly on a… skull? Gran instinctively reaches for his sword, only for his hands to grasp empty air.  _ What a nightmare. _ He would just have to rely on his own wits if he was to survive in this place. 

The captain grits his teeth as he makes his way forward, checking his feet every now and then to make sure he doesn’t trip on any more corpses. Which ends up being a more difficult task than it should be with how shattered bones and scattered viscera cover the floor, blood caking his boots and the fragments shattering with each step. 

Whatever kind of creature lived here is clearly dangerous.

“Oh? Well, isn’t this a surprise.”

Gran freezes in his tracks. At the end of the room sits a single man, one leg propped on top of the other, a hand raised to cup his chin. His throne stands among a mound of bones and guts, two ram skulls affixed to the armrests. Rusted weapons litter the room, tattered cloths hanging off in scraps against the handles. The pale demon sizes up the captain with crimson eyes, six leathery wings unfurled behind him. 

“You can’t get enough of me, can you Singularity?” The fallen angel’s voice is oddly loud despite his low tone. Belial smirks. “I’m even starting to get used to your shape.”

_ Figures. _

Gran folds his arms across his chest. After the whole business with the scythe and Belial’s existence itself, Gran knew that dealing with the snake could only invite trouble. “What do you want from me this time?”

Belial leans back. “ _ You’re  _ the one who’s come begging on my doorstep.” He spreads his hands, his wings outstretching with them, their tips almost reaching the ends of the room. “Take a good look, Singularity. This time,  _ you’ve  _ come to  _ me _ .” 

Gran’s grip on his arms loosen. _He’s_ the one who sought out Belial? How? Or rather, why? Most of the beings that visit him had some reason to, so wouldn’t that mean that he had some reason to visit Belial? He bites the bottom of his lip in thought as Belial shifts back into his original position.

“Oi oi, don’t tell me you need my help?” Belial’s voice is playful as he leans into his hand. “If you need me to be inside your girl in blue, that can certainly be arranged.” He laughs as Gran glares at him. “That’s a good look on you, but I’m only trying to help. Unless you open your mouth, there’s no way I can know what you want.”

Gran continues to glare at him, but the gears in his head start turning. What if Belial was right? What if he  did , for whatever reason, seek Belial’s help? He knows how powerful the angel of cunning is. Though Belial is practically the incarnation of trouble, summoning him would only call upon a fraction of his power, enough that Gran could easily reign him in before he got out of control… And there was always the possibility that asking for Belial’s help is his only way out of this place. Gran takes a breath.

“If…” He forces his tone to remain even despite the hammering in his chest. “If I were to ask for your help, would you really give it to me?”

Belial’s red eyes glint in the orange light. “Would you like to try it out? I could give you a sample if you’d like.”

“Only some of your power though. Enough to get me out of here, and enough to give me a small boost.” Gran meets Belial’s gaze head-on. “ Any more and the deal’s off.”

Belial’s smile widens. “You’d do well to relax a bit more. Being so tense like that will make it harder for you to take me in, you know.” He snaps his fingers, and an apple materializes in front of Gran, bobbing in the air. “That being said, all you need to do is take a bite out of my fruit and you’re set.”

Gran grimaces at the choice of words, but chooses not to comment. He timidly pokes the apple, yelping as it starts to fall. He scrambles to catch it in his hands, and once secured, he brings the apple up to his mouth.

_ Are you sure about this?  _ He can hear Lyria and Vyrn’s voice echo in his thoughts, even hear his own voice admonishing him for his decisions. The whole scenario  _ reeks _ of a bad plan. And yet… some part of him couldn’t help but be curious of what power Belial had to offer to him. If his power could make him stronger, could help him defend those he cared about better… so long as he maintained control, then it couldn’t be so bad, could it? 

_ I can do this. I’m strong enough to handle whatever he throws at me. _

Gran takes a bite, and his vision fades to red.

* * *

“Something on your mind, Lyria?” Gran watches Lyria’s face closely. His friend’s forehead is creased, and every now and then Gran has had to stop Lyria from tripping on a branch or root on the ground. Given the unpredictability and general danger of being in Selphira Island, the last thing anyone needed was for Lyria to get hurt from not paying enough attention.

“Well…” Lyria puts a finger to her chin. “I’ve been having this weird feeling all day… I thought I might’ve eaten something funny, but I don’t think I did....”

Gran furrows his brow. He still hadn’t told Lyria of his decision, and if his guess is right, then he may just know exactly what’s afflicting his friend. “Lyria, can you tell me what this feeling feels li-”

“Watch out!”

Gran tackles Lyria to the ground once the warning is finished, his body shielding most of her smaller form. A flurry of lasers rains down on the monsters that he hadn’t noticed surrounded them. He twists his body as he reaches for his sword, but the moment he gets up, the monsters scurry away from the depth of their wounds. He turns around, and landing beside Lyria is a familiar brunette, his six multi-colored wings disappearing as his heels touch the ground.

“Have your senses dulled, Singularity?” Despite his harsh tone, Gran recognizes the concern in Sandalphon’s voice. “A moment’s hesitation can easily get you kill-”

“Gran!”

Sandalphon’s lecture is cut short as a swarm of insectoid monsters surround Lyria, who only steps further and further back until she’s backed up to a tree. “Lyria!” Gran grits his teeth as he charges towards his friend. Sandalphon clicks his tongue, spectral swords manifesting behind him as he joins Gran in his charge.

The pair cuts down monster after monster, but with every one vanquished, more seem to appear.  _ What’s happening  _ this  _ time?! _ Even during the times when he was forced to defeat multiple monsters just to advance in the next area, it was never as bad as this. Now, the monsters seemed to spawn immediately after being felled, and the unease churning in his stomach only rises as his swings grew more sluggish. Even Sandalphon, who could endure even the harshest of battles, seemed to be slowing down.  _ Things aren’t looking so good… _

“Thy name is…” Blue shines bright from the corner of his eyes, and Gran instinctively faces Lyria as he watches her pendant glow grow stronger as she continues her chant. He isn’t aware of the words that forms in his mouth, nor does he truly hear himself as he screams, his voice drowning out Lyria’s despite the buzzing that crowds around them.

“Belial!”

A scarlet sea washes over his vision, the taste of an apple lingering on his tongue. He can see Lyria’s wide-eyed expression clearly, her mouth agape as the name of her summon remains unspoken. But Lyria isn’t looking at him; rather her gaze is turned to Sandalphon, the primarch glowing unnaturally bright as he hacks away at his foes with renewed vigor.

“Singularity!” Sandalphon is cutting as he slashes yet another bug, wincing as blood runs down his arm, a large gash running through the side even though the bugs are nowhere near him. “Don’t tell me you actually-”

Sandalphon all but collapses directly onto the ground, and Gran desperately clears a path to help his friend. Lyria reaches the brunette before him, her pendant shining yet again as she runs her fingertips over the wounds that spontaneously appear on Sandalphon’s body. By the time Gran makes it to Sandalphon’s side, the remaining monsters finally run away.

“Are you all right?” Gran kneels down next to fallen primarch as he lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, calling  _ him _ for help,” Sandalphon snarls as he narrows his eyes at the ground in front of him, his gaze unfocused yet brimming with disdain. His blood drips steadily into the grass, droplets hanging on each blade like dew. “But I’ll warn you right now that nothing good can come out of it. There was a time when I listened to what he said, and whatever he promised you, it’s not worth it.”

“You lost control to him before…” Lyria shakes her head and shudders. “Even if it’s only a tiny bit of his power, I don’t think it’s a good idea to use it.”

Gran gulps, only managing to nod his head as he helped the primarch up.

* * *

“Come now Singularity, there’s no need to be so rough.”

Gran presses the dagger even closer to Belial’s neck as his other hand tightens on the larger man’s shoulder. It had taken weeks for Gran to somehow dream himself back into Belial’s realm, and he intended to make the most of it. The moment he found himself inside the dreadful landscape that is now Belial’s abode, he strode straight back into Belial’s chamber and pinned the fallen angel down on his chair, taking a dagger he had picked up along the way and holding it against the other. 

“I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Belial remains unfazed, even amused, despite Gran’s threats. “I lent you my power just like you requested. Or was it not to your liking?”

“It wasn't supposed to affect anyone other than me! Dammit, I should’ve known better than to trust you!” Gran snarls. After seeing what he had done to Sandalphon, Gran decided not to rely on Belial’s power anymore, but it was as if his body wasn’t his own. Somehow, he would feel compelled to call on the angel of cunning’s help, to his own detriment each and every time. For every time he and his friends felt rejuvenated, so would his enemies; for every time he and his party felt stronger, their defenses also became weaker; for every coordinated attack that he and his crew did, they would end up bleeding from invisible wounds. “You never planned on helping me from the start, did you?”

“Now why are you so surprised?” Gran’s eyes widen as Belial grabs both his wrists. “Did you really expect me to be your pet? Even you must be smarter than that.” He leans towards Gran, pushing the captain’s arms out of the way. “Surely you knew what you were signing up for when you summoned me?”

Gran tries to shake Belial’s grip off of him, but the latter only clutches harder. “I keep seeing your face when I try to summon someone else, and you just don’t go away! I don’t know what you did, but you did  _ something _ .”

Belial simply moves even closer. “Like I said…” His voice tickles Gran’s ear. “I did  _ nothing. _ You only have yourself to blame for being aware of my tricks and still falling for them all the same.” He chuckles, his breath bringing goosebumps to where it licks his skin. “I would say it’s an obsession, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Shut up!”

The dagger drops from Gran’s hands, and in one swift movement, he finds himself not only free but now grasping at the primarch’s neck. Something flickers at the back of his mind, but he shoves the voice aside as he squeezes, his palms pressing down on the other’s now flushed skin. “I just wanted to get stronger, not endanger my friends!”

Belial’s heartbeat thrums beneath Gran’s fingers. Belial had always been a thorn on his side and a danger to the entire Sky Realm- wouldn’t it make sense to get rid of him, right here, right now, before he could cause any more harm?  _ This isn’t you. _ Once again, Lyria and Vyrn’s faces appear before him, and Gran relaxes his grip.

_ But I still have to do  _ something.

“Don’t have it in you to go all the way?” Belial sneers as Gran gets off of him, only for the primarch’s expression to turn into surprise as Gran tugs him off his throne and flips him over, his chest now flat against the seat of the chair. 

“I won’t stoop to your level, Belial,” Gran speaks evenly as he picks up his weapon, pressing a knee against the other’s back once the blade is secure in his hand. His free hand takes ahold of one of Belial’s wings, the appendage thin and slick in his fingers.  _ To think that all of his powers are concentrated right here, on these six wings… _ He thinks as he stretches the wing tautly. “But what I  _ can _ do is ensure that you won’t cause any more trouble for me or anyone else ever again.”

Gran presses the dagger against the spine of the wing, sawing through the bone with a dogged persistence. Though the blade is rather dull, the farther Gran goes, the easier it becomes to cut through. He could almost swear that the blade is basked in a crimson glow, but with how the sun fades through the windows of the tower, it is hard to tell.

Soon enough, however, the first wing comes off. Gran watches as the appendage falls on top of the skulls below, going straight to the next wing once it lands. If Belial is making any sounds, Gran cannot hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat, and yet Gran’s own mind is oddly blank. He simply pushes down harder each time Belial writhes, but he cannot stop the other completely; some of his cuts end up jagged, or his dagger ends up stuck, but Gran presses on nonetheless.

He is panting when he is finished, the dagger clattering on the floor as he stands up. Gran takes a step back, fully seeing how Belial’s dark clothes is now blotched in red.  _ Did I do that? _ He looks at his own hands, his palms sticky. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, but on the contrary-” Gran glances at Belial, who grunts as he shakily tries to get up. “I would say you knew  _ exactly _ what you were doing.” He twists his body, wincing as he hits the back of the chair as he settles into a seated position. “Are you sure this was your first time?” 

“Of course it was!” Gran snaps. Belial chuckles in response.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

Gran opens his mouth, only to take another step back.  _ I have to get out of here, before he riles me up even further…  _ Yet his feet are fixed to the ground, his gaze glued to the man in front of him. 

Despite the erratic rise and fall of his chest, Belial continues to grin at Gran. “You seem pent up Singularity… wouldn’t you like to release all that energy?” His eyes seem to glow in the darkness. “If you let me help you, then you can let loose all you’d like…”

Gran doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns tail and runs, the tower blurring into black before him.

When Gran wakes up, he practically flings himself upright. He gasps for air, his hands clutching at his sheets. He takes a few moments to calm down, his breathing gradually slowing the more he realizes that he’s back on the Grandcypher.

_ I hope I never end up there again… _ Gran takes a deep breath, slowly lowering down on his bed. He turns, trying to shift into a comfortable position, only for him to suddenly lift up his blanket.  _ What the-? _

He practically feels the blood rush out of his face and down towards his body.  _ No… it can’t be… _ Gran gulps. This was a one-time thing. There would be no more repeat incidents. He only needed to deal with  _ this _ once, now that it was all over.

Right?

* * *

“Are you heading to bed already?”

Gran grins sheepishly as he turns to face Katalina, his bedroom door partially open. “I just wanted to take a quick nap before our next mission,” he says as he steps into his room. Katalina frowns slightly, but she nods.

“Rest as much as you need. You’ve been working hard lately.” Her frown deepens. “A bit too hard if you ask me. I dare say you’ve been fighting a hundred battles every day. It might be best if you take the next mission off.’”

“I’ll be fine,” Gran reassures her. “I think some rest is all I need.” Katalina purses her lips, causing Gran to add, “But if I’m not feeling well after that, then I’ll look for someone to fill in for me.”

That was enough to please Katalina. They exchange goodbyes, and Gran closes the door as Katalina walks away. He slumps to the ground, taking off his gauntlet to reveal a red-soaked hand.

“Not again…” he mumbles. Gran picks up a cloth and wipes the blood off, taking another and wrapping it around his wound. Once his makeshift gauze has been applied, he takes off the rest of his armor and falls onto his bed. He closes his eyes.

Almost instantly, he finds himself back at the familiar tower. Once again, Gran presses onward, only stopping when he sees a familiar form on the horizon.

“Oh?” Belial’s wings stretch out to their full width. “Back again so soon?”

Gran sighs. He bends down, picking up the dagger he knows is right at his feet, and takes a step forward.


End file.
